


A Strange Species

by Silex



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Culture, Alien Sex, Humans are strange, Kind of smut, M/M, POV Nonhuman, confusing traditions, homosexuality as totally normal, kind of silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 14:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13615437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/pseuds/Silex
Summary: Hurdaril ’kif-Sed is a proud soldier, one with a deep sense of loyalty to his fellow soldiers. Except one of those fellow soldiers, Jarrek Singh, happens to be of an alien species, a human to be exact, which is about as alien as imaginable. How is he supposed to properly show his respect, the bond they share as soldiers, with such a strange creature? Noble and loyal, he's determined to figure it out, difficult as that may be.





	A Strange Species

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeiouna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeiouna/gifts).



> I like nonhuman characters. Hopefully you're okay with the fact that I left Hurdaril ’kif-Sed's appearance rather vague and that I ended things the way I did. It just felt right.

Hurdaril ’kif-Sed had been around enough humans that he no longer found them shocking to look at. Though it was always jarring to watch them get out of the powered armor that they all wore for ground combat. He could understand the armor, they were a small species, slight of build and frail of limb, unarmored and unadorned in their natural state. Jarrek Singh, the human he’d had the most experience with, was roughly half his height and considerably less than half his weight. So the armor made sense for such a Lilliputian species.

And it made them far more bearable to be around.

Predatory species achieving sapience were not so rare as to be unheard of, but humans were still especially unnerving in their appearance. With immobile ears and no muzzle to speak of, most of their expression came from the eyes and they would look directly at you when speaking rather than stepping to the side as most polite beings would do.

A human would stare right at you and with how flat and relatively wide their faces were it was alarmingly noticeable, especially with how their eyes were positioned. It was a trait common to beings with arboreal ancestors and predators alike, but with humans it was unnerving, because of the rim of white around the pigmented part of their eyes which made most of their expressions seem like threats.

’kif-Sed had a hard time even believing that they were predators when he first encountered one in the flesh. Their tactics were certainly predatory, but up close they were so small and unassuming, no claws, no fangs, no venom even. He had asked Jarrek about after seeing the man spit on the ground, wondered if it was a territorial behavior.

It hadn’t been and Jarrek had laughed at the question, a harsh, fearsome sound like something a predator would use to keep in touch with its kin over vast distances.

Because humans were pack hunters and relentless ones at that.

Their tenacity was astounding, and frightening.

When Jarrek had been up against a group of SKIT!NA rebels the hydraulics of his armor ended up damaged, costing him most of the mobility in its upper half and making it difficult to aim its primary guns.

Instead of falling back to wait for repairs Jarrek had opened the front of the suit and switched to assisted mobility, something that ’kif-Sed hadn’t even known that their armor was capable of. The weight and mass of the thing was still impressive, but Jarrek manhandled the disabled suit into cooperating, exposed, in nothing but impact dampening body armor and a helmet as he sat in the open cockpit.

More impressive was that he managed to keep up with the rest of the squad, not once complaining about the temperature or the strain of his efforts. By the time they cleared the building where the rebels were holed up the man was drenched with perspiration, but he’d fought the same as he would have had his armor remained fully functional.

It made ’kif-Sed embarrassed to admit that, until that point, he’d found the human to be a hideous and effeminate little thing thanks to his lack of a ruff or distinctly masculine markings on his furless body.

That was what made it most awkward for him to fight alongside Jarrek as he came to see past the human’s outward appearance and appreciate his warrior spirit. Humans were not very sexually dimorphic to begin with and they shaved their ruffs before combat, making them even harder to tell apart. According to Jarrek his distant ancestors had, as a mark of piety and status as warriors, not shaved their ruffs, ever, letting the fur grow to such lengths that special headwear was necessary to keep it manageable. It was an old practice, Jarrek told him, one that many still followed, but not him. ’kif-Sed whished that the practice was more widespread as it would have made humans easier to sex by sight.

At one point he had thought that perhaps pigmentation was a hint, that the males were darker than females, for Jarrek was certainly darker than most others of his kind.

That had been a mistake and Jarrek had needed to come to his rescue after he responded to a particularly large and fair human, its arms adorned with intricate, brightly colored images, with ‘Yes ma’am’. The human had not been female and was not amused by the form of address. After that he had taken to asking Jarrek to assist him in sexing humans.

And with practice he’d reached the point where he was correct most of the time.

And now they were on leave and ’kif-Sed had taken it upon himself to act as Jarrek’s guide to one of the nicer areas of Second Rithqaa, or at least one of the nicer areas within reasonable traveling distance.

It was also his chance to figure a few things out with the human. Jarrek was a warrior, one he’d fought alongside, descended from a long line of warriors, and he could respect that. Even if Jarrek being in uniform rather than full battle gear made it difficult.

As they waited for the skimmer that would take them to the dining district ’kif-Sed stared down at the ground near Jarrek’s feet. He always had to look down to address the human so he doubted that Jarrek even noticed.

Jarrek’s feet were another of the human’s strange traits. Though he was wearing shoes at the moment, a shining black that almost made it look like he had some form of proper, albeit oddly shaped, hooves, ’kif-Sed had seen the human’s feet and knew that they were like stunted versions of his hands, five little, near purposeless digits. It was something he thought about more often than he probably should have when considering Jarrek’s oddities, but he did appreciate good looking hooves and long ears with a slight curve before the tuft at the tips, though that was on females of his own species. It wasn’t Jarrek’s fault that he was hard to tell from a female, but it did make things awkward for ’kif-Sed.

Next to him Jarrek glanced at his watch and rolled his eyes, “The skimmer’s running late.”

“Yes, it’s a busy season,” ’kif-Sed replied conversationally, “The locals will be having their Celebration of the Triumphant Returning Dawn soon.”

Jarrek nodded, an affirmative gesture for his kind, and stood on the tips of his boots as though that would help him see over the milling crowds, who all towered over him.

It was so strange, the human was the size of a child and ’kif-Sed had never been particularly interested in smaller males, though there were those who were, but they were on leave together and they were both soldiers, had fought together other. Granting Jarrek such consideration was only proper. The human certainly was admirable, in his strange, alien ways, and that he was a predatory species made things more complicated.

It should have been simple, the proper thing to do since they were fellow soldiers. Didn’t he owe Jarrek the respect that he would give any other man he served alongside? Because he did respect the human.

Snorting, ’kif-Sed gathered his thoughts and began, “We could always try to find a night hotel.”

“Do they serve food?” Jarrek’s dully colored eyes brightened at that. Another human oddity, brown skin, brown fur, brown eyes, not a hint of blue or green anywhere despite being male.

“They do, though it’s only a little better than bar food,” ’kif-Sed twitched his ears in affirmation and then nodded, mimicking the human gesture, “Drinks too, though not as good as what the bars here have.”

“Fried food?” this time he showed his teeth when he spoke, the front few flat and normal, but the vestiges of pointed fangs visible at the sides, a reminder of what humans had evolved from, “And beer?”

’kif-Sed wasn’t sure if the expression indicated hunger or excitement, but didn’t want to ask. He knew that Jarrek would show his teeth during moments of concentration or aggression as well, which went to show how hard to read humans were, though they would insist that the opposite was true. Jarrek had described _him_ as stoic, something ’kif-Sed most certainly was not.

“I think beer is what you’d call it, fermented flowers and fruits, right?” ’kif-Sed dragged his hoof across the pavement, “And fried food. Your frits fries have become popular here. I been wanting to try them. You can tell me how they measure up to what you’re used to.”

Jarrek’s lips pulled back farther, revealing more teeth. Perhaps it had been a bad suggestion.

“They have French fries?”

“Maybe?” ’kif-Sed turned his head and bent his neck in apology only for Jarrek to let out a loud cheer.

“It’s been forever since I’ve had French fries,” the human let out one of his laughs, “Let’s go!”

Taking out his data pad ’kif-Sed typed in a search for the nearest night hotel, which bought him time to figure out how to best approach the matter that needed to be brought up. Finding that the closest hotel with open rooms was both well rated and within walking distance made his ears dip with satisfaction. That would give him even more time to figure things out. Humans were pack hunters and very social, so they clearly had such traditions, he just wasn’t sure how they approached them. Perhaps both of them had been making invitations back and forth to each other and neither had understood. Maybe that was what the baring of teeth was about. Maybe because humans were predators it was about aggression. He hoped not, the last thing he wanted was to get bitten some place tender. Everyone knew the story of what had happened with the first guy to try something with a Corrifla and its grasping tendrils and though the encounter was likely just a bad joke, he couldn’t be sure.

“This way,” he snorted to reassure himself, “We can walk.”

Jarrek needed to jog to keep up, even though ’kif-Sed tried to shorten his stride. The human didn’t complain. The distant ancestors of his kind had supposedly run things to death back in their prehistory, so a run before a meal might have been a natural or perhaps it simply wasn’t in Jarrek’s nature to complain. As a human Jarrek was prone to aggressive displays when frustrated, but that was only natural and he wasn’t that easily frustrated.

“I was thinking about,” ’kif-Sed snorted, “Certain wartime traditions and what they’re like for humans.”

“What sort?” Jarrek’s expression grew blank, “Something’s bugging you, I can tell by the ear thing. Ask anything and I’ll answer it honest. I know you guys are herbivores, most sapients in this part of the galaxy are. Is this like the guy who thought we ate anyone we killed?”

Until that moment he hadn’t realized how high he’d been holding his ears. Immediately he lowered them, surprised that the human had noticed.

“No bugs,” he said with a slight toss of his head, prompting a laugh from Jarrek, “And nothing horrible like that. I’m just trying to figure something out.”

He hesitated, realizing that he had no clue the term humans would use for the actions that would take place and the literal translation of what he was talking about was archaic and made little sense to someone who didn’t understand the culture.

Jarrek moved his shoulders up and down, a shrug ’kif-Sed believed the gesture was called, and let the mater drop. It was probably for the best since they’d be arriving at the hotel soon and he was sure that it would fall upon him to navigate the process of checking in.

Selecting a room, their food and drink was all automated for the convenience and privacy of guests and it was a matter of moments for ’kif-Sed to take care of things. Jarrek watched, occasionally commenting on things he found particularly amusing or frustrating, such as the hotel offering strictly vegetarian meal selections. ’kif-Sed could sympathize there, after so long away from such comforts it had to be infuriating to be unable to get a favorite food. Of course he’d smelled human cooking and found it vile, so his sympathy only went so far. They agreed on a sampler of different fried foods, the closest thing on the menu to what Jarrek described as a burger, and of course, the French fries with tangy red sauce. It was another oddity of humans, putting a popular breakfast side on a snack food typically eaten with no seasoning other than salt.

By the time they found the room their food was waiting for them thanks to the automated kitchen and once he tried it ’kif-Sed had to agree, the sauce was good on the fries, though both of them agreed that that the burgers left something to be desired. The rest of the food was passable, as was expected of such a location, but the beer selection had been surprisingly good and by the time their meal was over both of them were pleasantly buzzed, to use a human expression that he’d become quite fond of.

They’d talked about their home worlds, the idiots they’d encountered and the crazy times they’d shared, but they didn’t talk about anything important. It was a nice break and it kept him from having to bring up what, as Jarrek had called it, was bugging him.

Luckily the human brought it up himself once they’d finished most of the food and all of the beer.

Jarrek looked around the room, an eyebrow raised, “It’s a big bed.”

“Relatively,” ’kif-Sed shook his head and fluffed his ruff, “You _are_ small.”

“One bed,” Jarrek continued, “For both of us?”

Eyes closed, both eyebrows raised, ’kif-Sed had no clue what that particular expression was supposed to mean for humans.

“Did I make a mistake?” Perhaps humans abstained from such things during times of war rather than laying together to deepen the bond they shared with their comrades.

“Only if you insist that we start things in the shower,” the corners of Jarrek’s mouth curled upwards, but he didn’t show teeth, “Because you guys smell like cows when you get wet and that’d be a big turnoff.”

Jarrek leaned to the side and glanced past him, “That is a shower in there, right?”

’kif-Sed looked, “It should be. Do you want to shower first? Is it a ritual of your species to wash? I don’t actually know about how humans…”

“Mechanically, the same as everyone else,” Jarrek showed his teeth, “Mostly, you know what I mean. Our species aren’t _that_ different.”

“True,” he flicked his ears. At least xenobiologists claimed that humans were similar in enough ways. ’kif-Sed couldn’t see it when he looked at Jarrek, small and hairless as he was, but at the same time intriguing. He’d never been interested in other species, but Jarrek was different, they’d fought alongside each other and it was only right to want to properly consummate that relationship, “So how do humans…”

“You already treated me to dinner and drinks,” Jarrek let out one of his laughs, “That’s a start. How do you do this? I mean part of the reason I was assigned to working with you guys is because I was open to the idea, but I wasn’t going to say anything. I know about how in your military being gay isn’t just accepted for at least as long as you’re on active duty, it’s expected, but I wasn’t sure if I was reading the way you’ve been looking at me right and I didn’t want to start a diplomatic incident by asking if you wanted me to jack you off or something.”

“Off where?” he couldn’t place the idiom or accompanying hand gesture. Actually, much of what Jarrek had said was confusing to him. His understanding of the human’s language either wasn’t as good as he’d initially thought, or he was missing something. The part about being gay he could understand at least, it made sense that a predatory species would see joy in fighting and joy in the bonding that followed. Except from context it didn’t sound that way.

Jarrek must have recognized the confusion in his expression, for he was quick to elaborate, “Sorry, old slang, I’m homosexual, I like other men, so my commanding officers figured that I’d be best suited for this, less likely to cause an issue if a situation like this came up.”

’kif-Sed nodded, “Of course. I didn’t realize that was the term you used. I never figured your species to be so poetic, but gay makes sense, the joy of serving together, right?”

Another unreadable expression from Jarrek, perhaps deep thought, followed by a shrug, “I don’t think that’s where the term comes from. Like I said, it’s old, way before my time. It’s not quite the same as what you guys have going on. I’m not interested in women at all.”

’kif-Sed felt the fur of his ruff raise in surprise, “I didn’t realize that your species had such a strict cast system.”

It was quite unusual to see something like that in spacefaring races, though there were the hiveminded Trillthoonii. Clearly there was a great deal he had yet to learn about humans.

“It’s not like that,” Jarrek laughed, “So, about that hand job…”

This time he held up his hands open palmed and the meaning sank in.

“You…use your hands?”

“Of course…” the human trailed off, continuing to hold his hands up, “Right, you’ve got those pads like a dog. Jeez that’d hurt! So what do you do? I mean I’m not going to…big as you are you’d…”

Looking from Jarrek’s hands to his flat, muzzleless face understanding sank in. Of course humans used their hands, they had smooth, soft skin there and as short as their faces were there was no way that they could use their mouths. Plus he doubted that their tongues were of any use at all. He looked closer at Jarrek’s hands with their soft and dexterous fingers. To feel them wrapped around his shafts would certainly be interesting and in return he could show the human what a species with a proper mouth and tongue could do. He was willing to bet that it would be quite the experience for Jarrek.

“Lay back, unzip your fly and I’ll demonstrate,” ’kif-Sed let his tongue loll out, curling and uncurling the tip.

Jarrek’s eyes went wide as he complied, “A blow job?”

’kif-Sed fought back a wheeze of amusement, apparently humans did have a word for what he was about to do. Blow jobs, hand jobs, of course a species with a strict caste system would consider even pleasure a duty.

The more he learned about humans the less he understood them.


End file.
